Game of thrones: The Lustful sellsword

The morning after was quiet, save for the occasional crackling of the hearth.

Ros lay beside me, her body still recovering from the night before, her red hair cascading over the pillow.

She stirred slightly, blinking up at me, her green eyes hazy with exhaustion.

I had ruined her.

And yet, she smiled, tracing a lazy finger along my chest.

"Twice now," she murmured, voice laced with amusement. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually like me."

I smirked. "What if I do?"

She let out a soft laugh, shifting so that she could rest against me. "Men like you don't fall for women like me."

I tilted my head, running a hand through her fiery hair. "And what kind of woman are you?"

Her expression faltered, just slightly.

She knew the answer.

A whore.

A woman men came to for pleasure, but never for love.

She shrugged, trying to play it off. "The kind who makes her coin on her back."

I stayed silent for a moment, letting the words settle.

Then, I said it.

"You could stop."

Her body tensed—only slightly, but I noticed.

She blinked, tilting her head up to look at me. "What?"

I exhaled softly, choosing my words carefully.

"You're wasted here."

A half-truth.

She was beautiful, clever, and knew how to handle men. She had use beyond spreading her legs.

And if I wanted to shape the world into my own pleasure-filled kingdom, I needed women like Ros to be more than just a brothel plaything.

"You've been here for years," I continued. "Taking care of drunken lords, listening to their secrets, giving yourself away for silver."

Her fingers twitched against my skin, her smile wavering.

"You deserve more," I murmured.

It wasn't a lie.

She deserved more than to be passed around by sweaty, stinking old men.

She deserved to belong to me.

A Slow, Gentle Push

She scoffed, trying to laugh it off. "And what else would I do?"

I tilted her chin up, making her meet my gaze.

"Whatever I want you to."

A silence stretched between us.

Her green eyes searched mine, looking for something.

Doubt. Deception. Lies.

She found none.

I was serious.

She exhaled sharply, shifting to sit up, pulling the sheet over her chest as she processed my words.

"I need coin," she murmured.

I smirked. "I have more gold than you could imagine."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable.

"You'd pay me?" she asked, voice careful.

I chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear. "No, Ros. I'd take care of you."

Her lips parted slightly.

She didn't understand.

Because no man had ever offered her that before.

No one had ever looked at her as something worth keeping.

Only using.

And now, she was realizing that I was different.

That I was offering her a way out.

A new purpose.

Shaping Her Future

"You wouldn't have to whore yourself out anymore," I said casually, as if it were an afterthought.

Her fingers tightened around the sheets.

"You want to own me?" she asked, tone teasing—but I heard the deeper meaning behind it.

I smirked, leaning closer, letting my lips brush against her ear.

"I already do."

She shivered.

I could feel her resolve cracking, piece by piece.

I wasn't forcing her. I never would.

I was offering her a choice.

But I knew exactly which one she would take.

Because once a woman tasted true pleasure, true power, true belonging—she would never settle for less again.

And Ros?

She was already mine.

She just didn't know it yet.